Still Frame
by blacksouledbutterfly
Summary: My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a private investigator. My cases were simple, but Draco Malfoy changed all that.
1. Prologue: The Case That Changed It All

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a private investigator. I started right after school. It was simple enough, tracked a few cheating husbands, snapped a few pictures, got paid and was safely back in my office before the fireworks. Sometimes I worked on cases just as simple, nothing so big that the police had to handle it, nothing so small as I laughed in their face. Nothing ever deviated from that. It was simple enough and I made good money. It worked for me: no one expected me to be a private investigator. I came across as too sweet.

Things never changed, and normally I don't keep track of the cases. There is never a reason. Truth be told my case bored me, but that all changed when Draco Malfoy walked into my office.

Everything changed.

I hadn't seen Draco since school, and I never believed I would see him again. The cleared Death Eater. Bullshit. We all knew what part he had to play in the death of Professor Dumbledore, in the great war, but somehow he managed to weasel his way out of trouble like the vermin he was. Cleared of all charges. Maybe he turned over the names, maybe he seemed genuinely shocked, I will never know. I do know however that I wanted to kick him out of my office the moment he walked in to it. Why wouldn't I? He was...horrid.

Somehow he seemed paler than he had in school, if that were even possible. He walked into my office, that arrogant look on his face that he always wore in school. I wanted to slap it off of his face. His eyes, once so full of fire, for some reason, seemed to have been dulled. Perhaps he too had suffered, perhaps not. Maybe it was all an act. He smiled at me, his white-blonde hair hanging in front of his eyes. "Well, well, well. Granger a private investigator. Turned you down when you applied to being an Auror?"

I glared up at him from my desk, hands folded neatly on the cherry wood. "For your information, Malfoy, I never applied."

"Well color me surprised."

I leaned back in my leather chair- a gift from my parents when I opened my practice- my arms folded across my chest. "Cut the shit, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"The perfect prefect Granger cursing? What ever has the world come to?"

He sat down in front of me, all graceful movements. He moved with muscles that seemed to be almost inhumane. Oh, Merlin, I was not checking out Draco Malfoy!

That horrible smirk returned to his face. "I am here, Granger, because I wish to hire you."

"Oh, really? And what would ever make you believe I would work for you?"

"Because its a paying job, and I know you well enough to know you can't pass up a great mystery. Or a chance to possibly condemn me."

I had to admit that made me interested. He was right, I did love a good mystery, and truth be told I didn't find many in this job. It was also true that I would take any chance I got to condemn Draco Malfoy. "Okay, you have my attention. What's the job?"

"I suppose you heard about the murder a couple of days ago?"

"Of course. Marya Corbin, 34 years old, brutally murdered in her own home. Eviscerated I believe, an unusual act in the wizarding world when you can just use magic to kill them. No fingerprints, no sign of forced entry, no evidence, no suspects. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Not quite no suspects, Granger."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, not a suspect really. What do they call them? Ah, yes, a person of interest."

"Wait, what?"

"Do try to keep up, Granger. I am a "person of interest" in this case."

There was a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. I dropped my hands to smooth the skin, hoping to warm myself up. "They think you killed her?"

"They haven't exactly said that, no," Malfoy told me, leaning forward and resting his arms on the edge of my desk. "But they haven't said they don't think I did. I was told not to go anywhere, and things of the like. They believe I killed Marya, yes, but they don't have the evidence to make an official accusation."

"Well, why would they think that? Did you even know Miss. Corbin?"

"You could say I knew her...intimately."

"Mafloy!" I stood up so fast I nearly knocked my chair over. "You were shagging the victim?"

"Why, yes, Granger. I believe I just said that."

"She's twelve years your senior!"

"Experience has its perks, Granger."

I felt a wave of nausea as I sat down. "I do not want to hear about your sexual escapades, Malfoy."

"Still as frigid as ever, aren't you?"

"If you truly wish to hire me you will not ask me personal questions."

"Very well, Granger. There is something else you should know."

"And what is that?"

"Marya wasn't the first victim."

"What do you mean?"

"Five other victims before her, killed in the exact same way."

"Why wasn't it in the Daily Prophet?"

"The Ministry got there before they did, his the details well. Didn't want a public panic. I only know because I heard them talking. That, and I have my connections."

I let out a sigh. This was not my usual work. This was far from a cheating husband case. This was...this was murder. I glanced at him. He seemed sincere enough. Clearing my throat I leaned forward so I could meet his eyes rather closely. It seemed as though he moved back a little. "You know my normal price?"

"Yes, and I will triple it. This is a much more complicated case, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. So, you want me to prove you innocent?"

"Or prove me guilty. Just find out the truth." He leaned back, sticking out his hand. "So, Granger, do we have a deal?"

I stared at his pale hand for a moment before gripping it firmly in mine. "Yes, Malfoy, we have a deal."


	2. Diplomatic Tape

For almost six hours after I decided to take the case, I cursed myself for getting involved. There were two reasons for that. Firstly, this was Draco Malfoy I was working for, and true, he hadn't said I had to prove him innocent, but, still, working on anything that involved Draco Malfoy was destined to end badly. It was just a matter of time, really. He was, for all technical purposes, a magnet for horrid things. After all, he had been shagging the victim, and she died, in a most bloody way. Had Draco done it? Surely he was capable of it, the great son of one of the most dangerous Death Eaters I had ever seen. Yes, he could have done it, his heart was cold as ice and black enough where he could have taken the life from this woman and then sat down for tea while her bloody body lay on the floor. Oh, yes, I did believe Draco could have killed her, but the question wasn't _could_ he have killed her. The question was: did he kill her? And where the thought that he killed her was frightening enough, the idea that he hadn't, strangely, was even _more_ frightening, because if Draco didn't do it, that meant the Ministry had no idea who did, and this man, this killer, was still out there, choosing another victim.

This case was dangerous, and I felt a fool for having gotten myself involved in the first place. I was mad, utterly mad, but damn it, Draco had peaked my interest. He knew just how to get to me: find a person killing innocent women. Well, then again, exactly how innocent could Marya Corbin have been if she had been involved- intimately- with Draco Malfoy. Could she, like him, have been involved with the Death Eaters? Was she also part of a group of pureblood extremists who decided that the wizarding world had to be purified and that to do so all muggleborns or those with muggle blood had to die? And if not, why would she have gotten involved with someone like Draco?

And since when did I call him Draco?

So many questions were floating around in my head, and for once in my life, I didn't have an answer to a single one of them. None of my books and studies could answer them, only research, digging for information and digging into the past could do that. And even then, was I sure I could, in fact, answer the questions? Maybe I was just fooling myself. This could have all been an elaborate plot by Draco- no, Malfoy damn it- to give the ministry reasonable doubt. He was probably looking for me to find some small shred of evidence that could point to a possible other culprit. If there was any doubt, they couldn't touch him. Of course, it was entirely possible- though unlikely- that Malfoy was actually innocent. After all, could I _really_ picture Malfoy getting his hands that dirty? Too much blood, too messy, too un-Malfoy like. No, I wasn't even sure of anything anymore, and the only place I would find any answers was at the Ministry.

It wasn't an easy task to get into the section of the Ministry I needed to, but, my connections there paid off, because not only could I get Arthur Weasley to give me information, but dropping a famous name like Harry Potter was enough to get me into the department, but then, of course, diplomatic tape kicked in. Hush-hush investigations were not open to public access, no matter whom you knew, so, after arguing with the poor Ministry workers for over an hour I had all but given up and gathered my things to leave. That was when the unexpected happened.

I was already out the door when Kingsley Shacklebolt approached me. It had been quiet some time since I had actually seen Kingsley, since the great battle with Voldermort, actually, but, I recognized the voice without even turning around. A very specific voice, that's for sure.

He questioned my reasons for investigating these killings, and I told him, in an almost completely honest way, I wanted to know the truth about what happened, no diplomatic tape rubbish, no lies, no manipulation. I wanted to know what was happening to these women. I don't know if he was completely convinced, but, he relinquished his inquiry after a bit and handed me a folder, deceptively small in appearance, but surprisingly heavy in my hand. "If anyone asks, Ms. Granger, you didn't get this from me."

I nodded. Of course I knew how much trouble he could get into if they found out he had given my confidential files, but, his faith in me wasn't lost. I thanked him, what seemed like a million times over, then left, heading back to my office. If the file was this heavy, going through it would take a while. And it did.

Almost midnight and I was still sitting in my office, finally eating dinner, looking through the written reports on the women who had been victims. All young, all beautiful, and all very much dead. Even the magic of wizard photography couldn't make these women look alive. Their eyes stared up at the camera, white, empty. My stomach clenched. There was a distinct look in their eyes, each of them, a look I knew all to well: pure fear. They had probably died wanting to scream their heads off, but had been too afraid to do even that. Poor women. Whoever had done this to them was a monster.

I started to flip through the crime scene photos and ended up throwing out most of my dinner. Enough blood could make even the strongest stomach afraid to eat. These women, pale skin splattered a violent red, surrounded in a dark halo of blood, made my stomach lurch.

"Looking a little green, Granger."

I nearly jumped out of my seat. Malfoy had managed to sneak into my office and watch me long enough to see me pale before I even noticed him. I was losing my touch, and when I was on a case like this, that was never a good thing.

He smirked at me, that bastardly smirk I hated so much, and sat across from me. "Did I scare you, Granger?"

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

He crossed his legs in an elegant, aristocratic way, resting his hands on his knee. "I came to see how your investigation is progressing."

I watched him quietly for a while, then back down at the photographs in front of me and began digging through them until I found the one I was searching for. Alexia Dragen, age 20. She was a beautiful girl, high-class, model beauty, and the first victim. Poor girl had died of a broken heart, literally. True, she had been eviscerated like Marya, but, Alexia had died from a wound to the heart- it literally split her heart in half. The other wounds followed shortly there after. The photograph in my hand smiled back at me, a picture of her in happier times, when her skin wasn't graying from death's cold kiss.

I turned to picture to him, pursing my lips. "Did you know her?"

He took the picture from me, purposely brushing his fingers against mine, and despite myself, my stomach warmed at the feeling. No, damn it, I _was not_ attracted to Draco Malfoy. I refused to be.

He examined the picture, inclined his head ever so slightly in a way that could be considered a nod. "I know who Ms. Dragen is, yes."

"She's the fist victim."

"Ah. I had wondered why I hadn't seen her as of late. Such a same. She was a very pretty girl."

I snatched the picture back from him, tucking the smiling girl safely away from his prying eyes. "Strange, isn't it Malfoy? Two victims you know. Did you know her as…intimately as you did Ms. Corbin?"

"Yes."

The answer was so simple, so matter-of-fact, that it startled me at first, but soon I was scowling. "Have you _no_ morals, Malfoy?"

"Now, now, Granger." He leaned forward, resting his arms on my desk. "You speak as though sex is a disturbing thing."

"How many women _have_ you slept with, Malfoy?"

"Do you really want to know?"

His tone told me I didn't. "It's disgusting to sleep with that many women, Malfoy. You should have some restraint."

"Oh, I have restraint, Granger. You don't see me trying to sleep with you, do you?"

"And sully yourself with impure blood? Never."

The edge of his lip curled slightly as he leaned back in his seat. "You believe I did this, don't you, Granger?"

"I've seen absolutely no evidence to the contrary. And, seemingly, you have no alibi for either of the killings. What would any rational person think?"

"I never took you for rational, Granger."

Now he was teasing me, I could tell by the tone of his voice. Bloody hell, Draco Malfoy was flirting with me.

We sat there watching each other for a long while, me looking into those cold, pale gray eyes, almost too hypnotized by their depth to look away. I did look away however, when a bolt of lightning sounded outside. I jumped a bit, and he smirked slowly.

"Believe I am guilty all you want, Granger. _I_ know I'm innocent."

"Unless that's proven, Malfoy, you will pay for these crimes."

"I am well aware. I also know, deep down, you are thinking I should pay for many others as well."

I shrugged. Was I going to deny it? Surely not. He knew how I felt about him, all too well, and I knew how he felt about me. We were comfortable in our mutual disdain: it was a pattern for us, and why go messing with what works?

"Let me know when you find anything out, Granger."

I nodded a bit, leaning back in my seat. "Very well, Malfoy."

He stood, fluid and almost inhuman, like he had muscles no human should. "I'll be seeing you soon."

As he left I realized how seductive his voice had been.

And how close that had sounded to a threat.


	3. Dark Dreams

Saying I hadn't had a pleasant night's sleep would have been a grave understatement. Twice the night before- or at least twice that I could remember- I had dreamt of both Malfoy and the two victims I knew for a fact had known him.

Each dream had been vastly different. In one it had been gruesome enough that I woke up feeling as though my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I had seen, quite vividly in my mind, Malfoy taking the lives of the women has had confirmed as his lovers. I could see him dragging a knife through their skin, smell the tang of their blood filling the air. And the entire time Malfoy had been mutilating these women he had a smile on his face. The smile had made my blood run cold. It was like an animal that had descended upon their prey and starting ripping it apart. He acted as though it were natural, even fun, to take these lives and remove them from the face of the earth. And perhaps to him the idea was in fact an appealing and fun one for him. Someone who had joined a group that had believed in the idea of eradicating muggle borns must not have had a hard time with the idea of murdering two women.

The second dream, however, had been vastly different than the other. Instead of Malfoy being a murderous monster he had actually seemed to have a vast amount of emotion in this one. He actually had seemed to be mourning the women. Surely it was the secret part of me that hoped I was working for an innocent man rather than a murderer that had made me dream of him in such a way, but even if that were the case this dream had comforted me much more than the previous one.

I sat at my desk, sipping what seemed like my twentieth cup of coffee that day and tried to figure out if there was any connection between Malfoy's two lovers and the other women. Then I had to stop- was Malfoy carrying on a sexual relationship with _both_ of these women at the same time? Was it possible that he had many casual lovers all at once? I tried to picture Malfoy being monogamous and the image wouldn't form in my mind. It seemed almost impossible to believe that he could let himself be tied down to one woman. Surely the 'great Draco Malfoy' had scores of lovers at his beck and call, just waiting for him to decide that he wanted to be with _them_ that particular night.

And why was I sitting there thinking about Malfoy's sex life? It wasn't as though I really wanted to know the intimate details. Or maybe I did- surely if I did the investigation could go much swifter than it was. Maybe the answers did lie there: maybe the other victims were lovers of his as well. And if they were, didn't that just make him look a thousand times more guilty than he already had when he walked into my office?

So, somehow- I'm not even sure how- I found myself going into the inner sanctum of a possible murderer. Visiting the home of Draco Malfoy.

He sat across from me, his legs crossed at the ankles, the perfect picture of elegance. His eyes were cold and emotionless as he gazed at me, almost as though he were a doll rather than a living being. The edge of his lip twitched up every so often as I watched him, almost as though he was daring me to speak, daring me to ask all of the questions that were racing through my head. Did he know what I was wondering? Did he know I was starting to believe he was as guilty as guilty could be? Or maybe he had counted on that, playing this game with me and making me feel like I was falling into a bottomless pit of carnage and wonder. I wouldn't have put anything past him to be quite honest. Sure, he was capable of such games, but would he actually waste his time playing them on me of all people? That was the ultimate question- and somehow I doubted I had an answer to it.

"You're looking a little uneasy, Granger. Need a drink to calm yourself down?"

I pictured Malfoy's aristocratic hands gripping the handle of a knife, dragging it through pale and smooth flesh so it split and blood flowed out of it. I imagined it caking under his fingernails, drying to a brick red and being picked out in little dust like pieces, floating down onto the beautiful wood that was the floor. I could feel myself pale at the image and had to shake my head a couple of times to clear my head. "I don't need a drink, Malfoy."

"You sure? You look a little sick, Granger."

"I've been looking at pictures of dead girls. How should I feel?"

"I don't know." His hand brushed slightly across his lips, as if he was trying to wipe away a smile- or maybe a smirk- then dropped back into his lap like some kind of a loyal pet. He could be so unnervingly high class when he wanted to. It made me feel out of place in my casual clothes. It occurred to me that this was the only time that Malfoy had actually been able to make me feel uneasy merely by being in front of me. Of course he hadn't been accused of being a mass murderer before now- just a spoiled and arrogant prat.

He tilted his head back, pale white hair reflecting light off of it. His eyes slide closed looking both bored and tired suddenly. "Feel free to keep looking through your little files, Granger. If you have a question feel free to ask. I might even answer you."

"Do you know a woman named Marlene Atkins?"

"The name sounds vaguely familiar, yes."

"Another lover?"

"Certainly not." His mouth curved into a condescending smile. "I remember the names of all of my lovers very well. I remember a lot of details about them. Rather…_intimate_ details."

I blanched. "I don't need to hear about your sex life, Malfoy."

"Seems to me you're rather interested considering you keep questioning me about it."

"I needed to know if you slept with Marlene."

"Well, I can honestly tell you, Granger, that I didn't sleep with her. She is rather pretty, if I remember correctly, but I never had the pleasure of bedding her. And since you're supposed to be working on the case that I'll never have the pleasure to do so."

"You're right. She's dead as well. How did you know her?"

"I know who she is, Granger. I didn't actually know her."

"Just answer the question."

"She dated an…old friend of mine."

"You mean a Death Eater?"

"I'm being purposely vague, Granger. I thought you of all people would be able to pick up that subtlety."

"If you want my help, Malfoy, you have to stop being vague. I can't properly investigate if you keep things from me."

"You know who I have associated with in the past, Granger. Surely you can figure things out for yourself."

My mouth snapped shut, refusing to argue semantics with him. If he didn't understand that it would be nearly impossible to even gather a shred of doubt without him being completely honest with me than who was I to remind him of that fact? Surely he wouldn't listen. I knew Malfoy well enough by then to know that he believed himself to always be right. No one knew better than him, of course. Especially when it came to his own life. And if he didn't want to help me with this I wasn't about to force him to. Let him be convicted of murder. He had crimes to pay for anyway- these may just have been the newest ones.

I returned my gaze to the files, not expecting Malfoy to be any more forthcoming, at least not right away. Perhaps after the fun of picking on me in the current moment passed he'd be easier to talk to. Or perhaps I was just getting my hopes up.

Marlene gazed back at me in the picture that had been taken of her in life, dark brown eyes shinning. Her smile was lovely, her teeth perfectly straight. Her hair had been pin backed, cascading behind her shoulders in elegant curls. Malfoy was right- she had been a rather beautiful girl in life. Glancing at him I noticed his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Somehow, in the midst of all of this he had managed to doze off. Sighing I returned my gaze to Marlene's file.

In death her skin was deathly white, dark circles under her eyes making them look sunken in. Her lips were slightly parted as if she had started to gasp but never got the chance to complete the action. She lay sprawled out on her living room floor. One hand was thrown up so it rested next to her head, almost looking like she was imitating a swoon. The other hand lay flat, palm on the floor, resting next to her hip. Her body was laid out like she was a dancer- all pale and graceful beauty, naked body exposed to the cameras and the investigators. The blood on her skin was still stark red, thick and disturbing against the beauty that was Marlene.

How could someone do something like this to another human being? Didn't it make something inside of them break a little to watch the life drain from another person? Weren't we supposed to care enough about other people for that to be the case? Of course I knew there were horrible people in this world, but most of them I had encountered hadn't handled their cruelty with this kind of brutality. This was a whole new level of darkness and malice. I was pretty sure I would never be ready for this to be a part of my reality.

From across the room I heard the chair Malfoy had been lounging in creak, the leather groaning in protest as he moved. My eyes snapped up to him. His face seemed paler than normal, his eyes wide and almost frenzied. His mouth was parted slightly, chest heaving. "Malfoy?"

His eyes didn't even move towards me as he lurched to his feet, throwing all of his weight into the movement. He stumbled slightly, unable to handle gravity that quickly but quickly regained his balance. He took off running then, long legs carrying him down the hall.

I didn't even think about it. I stood up and dropped my files onto the chair I had just abandoned and was off after him as quick as I could go. His legs were longer than mine making his strides wider and it impossible for me to catch up to him, but I did my best not to fall far enough behind that I'd be lost in the vastness that was his house.

I came skidding to a stop outside of what turned out to be a bathroom. Malfoy was hunched over the sink, back shuddering as though something were crawling beneath the skin he couldn't quite control. Water dripped down off of his face as his hands dipped under the faucet to catch more water before he threw it against his face, gasping as it hit his skin. "Malfoy? Something wrong?"

"I'll be perfectly fine, Granger. But your concern is touching."

"I'm only concerned with keeping you alive long enough to get paid. If you die then I don't get a payment."

"As I said, I'll be fine. Just a bad dream, Granger. Surely you've had them."

"I didn't know snakes could dream."

"How very clever." He straightened himself up, squaring off his shoulders and shoved his hair back from his face with one wet hand before grabbing onto a nearby towel and proceeding to dry off his hands. Water dripped down off of his face, wetting the expensive fabric of his shirt. "I, like most people, tend to have dreams."

"What did you dream about?"

"Nothing you want to hear about, Granger." He turned to me and pressed his palm against the door frame, leaning down so his face was eerily close to mine. "Believe me when I tell you that you don't want to know."

His breath was hot on my face. I took a deep breath. "And what if I do?"

"Then _you_ have to pay _me_ for that information."

I decided that I didn't really want to know about his dream. With his face that close to mine I could feel my breath hitch. No, I didn't want to pay him for information. Because Malfoy wasn't talking about actual money. His payment would be far more intimate than that. And there was no way whatever he had to say would be worth that.


	4. Of Questions And Attraction

I spent several hours after I left pondering what Malfoy could have possibly meant by me having to pay him for the information I asked him to offer up. Of course I knew he hadn't meant actual payment. He had plenty of money- after all he was paying me more than my normal fee- but he wasn't joking when he expected payment, I was sure of that. But what could he possibly have expected as payment? Surely nothing that I was willing to give. That wasn't even a question, more of a fact. Nothing that he could offer up to me as information was worth giving him anything he wanted.

All my worrying had kept me up most of the night and had worried Levi. Who was Levi? That's right, I hadn't mentioned him yet. Late in my Hogwarts experience I had begun to date Ron. Though Ron and I were rather fond of each other and it seemed logical to be with someone you cared about as much as we cared about each other, we quickly realized that our relationship wasn't meant to last- much to the dismay of Molly who naturally assumed I'd become one of her daughter in-laws one day.

It was only a month after Ron and I had decided- mutually- that we shouldn't be together anymore that I met Levi. We had bumped into each other, quite literally, in Diagon Alley. Levi had gone to a very small wizarding school that I had never actually heard of until he mentioned it. His parents had wanted him to have more individual attention than he would have gotten at a bigger school like Hogwarts and had chosen this one for him to attend.

Levi was two years my senior and instantly I found him to be sweet and smart. There was something soothing about his smile, something that made me smile despite myself at times. He was charismatic and there was never a time I had to explain what I was talking about. It was a new and enjoyable feeling. But I wouldn't say I instantly was drawn to him as more than a friend. It took time for me to develop actual feelings for him. But we had spent a lot of time talking, getting to know how the other one thought and felt. It was comforting to have him listen to me and to be able to listen in return without being frustrated with the words spilling out of his mouth.

It took him three months to convince me to go on a date with him and I had naturally been reluctant, even after accepting that invitation, to make it anymore than a one time thing. I had decided to focus on more prudent things in my life than dating at the time, but Levi was so charismatic that one date turned into two, then into three and pretty soon I found myself in a relationship once more.

At first both Ron and Harry had been rather protective of me, not liking the idea of someone suddenly coming into my life. Perhaps Ron hadn't expected me to move on as quickly as I had, or maybe they were both just trying to look out for my best interests. Either way they had insisted on meeting Levi and like the nosey prats they both were they all but interrogated him, questioning what his intentions towards me were as though they had taken on the job of being my father and protecting me. Though their caring that much about me was rather sweet it was also rather annoying. I loved them both dearly, but at that moment I wanted to strangle them to get them to leave the poor guy alone.

In the end they had conceded that he was a nice guy and even seemed to be a good match for me and they were more than willing to accept him in my life. I wouldn't have broken up with Levi based on them not exactly being too fond of him, of course. But it made my life a lot easier to know that they accepted him and I wouldn't have to worry about them hexing each other to oblivion and back. That was certainly a load off of my mind and it made my relationship go more smoothly- which in turn allowed me more time to focus on my job and not worry about having to visit any of them in St. Mungo's. Thank Merlin for small favors, right?

So, as I was saying, my being up all night had worried Levi. I tried to assure him, more than once, that I was perfectly fine and I was just completely focused on the case. "I promise, as soon as this is all over everything will be back to normal."

"You should probably just drop the case, Hermione." It was a logical suggestion, but he knew it wasn't that simple for me to do. "If it keeps you up then it may not be the best idea."

I had put my tea cup down on the table, pulling my robe more tightly around me. "I can assure you, Levi. Everything is perfectly fine. And besides, I made a promise by taking this case. It isn't in my nature to let my clients down."

"Even ones like him?"

"Yes, even ones like him." Oh yes, Levi had heard enough about Malfoy that even without meeting him there was an instant dislike for him. I couldn't really blame him considering what Malfoy had put myself and my friends through during our school years, but a client is a client. Despite how I may feel about them they all deserved for me to work to the best of my abilities. Then again, I wasn't exactly sure how I felt about Malfoy anymore. It was becoming far too confusing for my taste.

Levi sighed but nodded slightly, mostly in defeat. "Alright. Just don't get too close, yeah? We don't want anything bad to happen to you, do we?"

"What could possibly happen?"

"We're talking about several girls dying, Hermione. I doubt that whoever killed them would want you looking too much into this. They might do anything they can to stop you from finding out the truth."

"I promise I'll be careful. I'll come out of this in one piece."

I had every intention of keeping that promise, of course. I mean, sure, something _could_ always go wrong, but I was going to be as careful as I could. So, once I had assured him I was going to try my hardest to be as careful and safe as I possibly could I finished my morning routine and made my way to my office.

It was around noon that I got an owl from Kingsley. It was surprising to say the least that he would owl me at my office, but it was an intriguing thing nonetheless. The note was short and simple:

_Another girl dead. Meet me at the Ministry. Tell no one of this. - Kingsley_

Another girl dead. Maybe Levi being worried wasn't such an unrealistic thing. After all the body count kept rising. And now the question that came to mind was whether or not Malfoy knew this girl as well. And if he _did_ know her, how well did he know her? Was she another one of his seemingly long list of lovers? Or was she just someone he knew casually like the last girl I asked him about was?

I met Kingsley at the Ministry like he had requested and he led me off to one of the empty offices. I didn't even have to ask why he did that- he could get into serious trouble for giving me this kind of information. He was risking a lot to help me and I was eternally grateful. Without the help of people with access to such information this investigation would get nowhere fast.

He handed me a folder containing pictures of this new crime scene. This one, Allison Starr, had died in the exact same manner as the other girls. And like them she was extremely beautiful even with the shadow of death hanging over them. She as young, early twenties I would have guessed. How sad to see someone, once again, die so brutally at such a young age. By the end of this case I was sure that the eyes of these women would haunt me for the rest of my life. "Did she by any chance know Draco Malfoy?"

"We can't be certain," he told me, but his voice revealed that he in fact believed Malfoy was connected to this girl, too. "We're still looking into it. Do you think he's guilty?"

"I don't know." And at this point I didn't. I was extremely aware of the fact that he could have committed these crimes, may have committed these crimes, but I wasn't ready to say with absolute certainty that I believed he had. There were too many questions I needed answered before I made that assumption. "My job isn't to prove him innocent, you know. I'm just supposed to find the truth."

"Please do be careful. And remember to watch your back. I don't want to see pictures of you like this."

He was the second person to remind me to be careful that day. Sound advice, especially with a new body. "I will. I promise."

Once he had made sure that no one would see me leaving with a copy of the new report he made his way back over to his office, leaving me staring into dead blue eyes. It felt like she was watching me, begging for me to find out the truth. I wasn't sure I was ready for that yet. But I knew that the one thing I needed to do was to find out whether or not Malfoy knew this girl and if so how well.

I appariated directly into the library at Malfoy's home to find him relaxing in one of the oversized leather chairs, a cup of tea half way to his mouth. He may have smirked, I wasn't sure, but his eyes were amused. "Just can't stay away, can you?"

"I'm here for the case, Malfoy."

"Of course. Did you think I meant you would come to see me for any other reason?" Bloody prat.

I didn't waste any time. I pulled out the picture of Allison alive and smiling and held it out to him. "Did you know this girl?"

He set down his teacup and took the photo, brushing his fingers slowly against mine as he did so. It was intentional- of that I was sure. He just loved to get on my nerves, to see how far he would push me before I would snap.

His eyes danced over the picture, drinking in her features before he held it back out to me. "I'm afraid I don't. Is she dead as well?"

"Brilliant deduction."

He shrugged, a delicate and predatory looking gesture. "Considering you said you were here about the case. It was a logical assumption."

"Somehow I didn't see you as the logical type."

"On the contrary. I can be quite logical when the occasion calls for it. After all, I saw them zeroing in on me for these crimes and decided to hire the best investigator out there to find out the truth. That, most people would say, is a logical act."

He had just complimented me. I was sure I had somehow managed to find myself in a parallel universe. No, it wasn't possible he complimented me. He was just messing with my head. "Hire someone else to double check my findings, did you?"

"Of course not. I trust you to find the truth, whatever it may be. Don't think me a fool, Granger. I know you'd love nothing more than to be able to tell those imbeciles at the Ministry that I'm guilty of these crimes and see me locked away in Azkaban. But I know you: if you find out I'm innocent, no matter how much you may dislike me, there's no way you'd let them send me to prison. You have far too many morals, Granger. It would go against the very fiber of who you are to allow that to happen."

I hated that he was right. If he didn't commit these crimes I sure as hell wasn't about to let an innocent man be put away. I had seen what Azkaban did to people when I had met Sirius. I wasn't willing to let Malfoy go through the same thing if he didn't kill those girls.

But did I _want_ him to be guilty? Surprisingly I didn't. The idea that I was working for a killer was one that made my flesh crawl. My spine felt cold at the idea. No, I wanted him to be innocent. I just wasn't sure he was. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask. Depending on the question you might even get an answer."

"I just don't get it."

"Not a question, Granger."

"I know that, you bloody prat." I sat in the chair across from him, legs crossed and folder in my lap. "How is it that you manage to get all of these girls to want to sleep with you?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm devastatingly charming."

"I would like a serious answer, Malfoy."

"I'm being quite serious. I have the ability to be rather charming when I put my mind to it. You just haven't had the pleasure of seeing that side of me."

I couldn't help it. I snorted. Not very ladylike, I know, but I just couldn't picture Malfoy charming anyone into his bed. Not anyone with half a functioning brain at least.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his legs. "Some people can just make others want to be with them, Granger. No use being insulted by the fact, or disgusted by it. Some people just have a certain charm to them. Something built into them that attracts others. It isn't something most people can learn or practice, you know. And furthermore, as you well know, women have a habit of talking."

"So?"

"Oh, come now. Can you honestly tell me that you never listened to other girls talk about who they shagged and if they were good or not?"

I would _not_ blush. No way was I giving him the satisfaction. "Of course I've heard others talk about it."

"Well, there you have it. If one girl, just one, claims a guy is an amazing shag there will always be other girls who want to see if she's right. Not every girl wants romance and relationships, Granger. Some just want a nice fuck and a mind blowing orgasm."

Sweet Merlin, I was blushing. Damn it, I must have looked like a complete prude. "I know some people just want sex and nothing more, Malfoy. I'm not dim, despite what you might think."

"Then why so red?"

"I'm just not usually around people who would put it so crudely."

"Come now, Granger. I can be far more crude. Want me to give you specific details of what I do to them? How I make them pant and moan and scream out? I could, if you'd like. For your case file, of course."

"Do it and I'll hex you, I swear."

Now he was definitely smirking. "Tell me, Granger: have you ever had a good shag _just_ for the sake of shagging? If not it may do you some good. Release is a good thing."

"My sex life is none of your business, Malfoy."

"That's a no then."

"That wasn't an answer at all!"

"You changed the subject to avoid answering. That's an answer in and of itself, don't you know. When you don't want to have someone know the answer to a question you avoid it at all costs."

"Just drop the subject, Malfoy."

"Oh, but I do so enjoy watching you squirm."

"I'm not squirming."

"Oh, but you are." He stood them, fluid and graceful and made his way towards me. My instinct was to get up and run, to bolt from that house as fast as my legs could take my but I couldn't seem to make myself move.

He leaned down so his face was close to mine, his breath warm on my face, his hands resting on the arms of the chairs. I was effectively trapped. "I already knew the answer to the question, Granger. I know you far better than you think."

"You don't know me at all, Malfoy."

"I know your heart is beating rather fast right now."

"Annoyance."

"Hardly. That's curiosity. You're wondering if I'm right, wondering what made them keep coming back for meaningless sex. You're wondering if I'm as good as I claim."

"Bullshit."

"Ooh, such foul language from such a pristine woman."

"I'm not pristine."

"You're right. You're not. My mistake."

Then, as if I hadn't even seen him move, he pressed his lips against mine. His mouth was firm and warm and insistent, moving over mine with great skill. Of course my instinct was to shove him away but I was so surprised I gasped. And he took that moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding into my mouth and brushing up against mine. And before I knew it I found myself kissing him back. It was wrong for so many reasons- including having a boyfriend and him possibly being a murderer- but I could bring myself to stop. It must have been a spell of some kind because I just kept kissing him back, moving my lips in synch with his and enjoying every second of it all while secretly hating myself for doing this. It was such a conflicting moment.

And then as quickly as his mouth was on mine it left, but he remained close enough to breath against my face, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. "Come back if you ever want to know what they had, Granger. I'd be happy to oblige to a round of rolling in the sack with you."

As soon as he backed away I ran out of the room, my heart beating a mile a minute. But it was only annoyance. That's all it was, I assured myself.

I was not, I repeat _not_ attracted to Draco Malfoy. Not a chance.


	5. Little Secrets

I had kissed Draco Malfoy back. That was the simple- and yet disturbing- fact. I was sorely disappointed with myself. And no, it wasn't just because I had a boyfriend, though that was reason enough. There was also the fact that he was Draco Malfoy- the Slytherin that had made my life a living hell in school. He was also a murder suspect who had admitted to having a vast amount of lovers. He wasn't exactly the ideal choice when it came to picking someone to- for all technical purposes- cheat on your boyfriend with. Yes, I felt stupid and a little bit gross knowing I had kissed him back.

Now, him kissing me really wasn't my fault. How was I to be expected to stop him from doing so? If I had hexed him it would have caused a whole big mess. Besides, I didn't make it a habit to hex my clients. That would have made me look bad and when you look bad in my line of work you lose business. No, I wasn't about to hex him- and if I hit him I was pretty sure with his strength I would have been in a whole world of hurt. And considering what he was accused of doing to those women I wasn't about to risk my life by pissing him off.

I had opted not to tell Levi about the kiss. I didn't think that Levi would have been angry at me- people sometimes do things they wouldn't expect given certain stimuli- but I was afraid that he'd get angry enough at Malfoy to do something foolish. Sometimes you have to pick and choose what you tell people and this time I chose not to. Call it being overly cautious if you will, but I call it being smart.

But Levi was a smart person as well and he could instantly tell that something was bothering me. Dinner was quiet and a bit awkward, to say the least. I didn't really want to rehash my day and though I knew he must have been curious about what happened to cause my less than stellar mood but he had opted not to ask, just like I had opted to keep the kiss a secret. True, most times the idea of keeping secrets wasn't the best one when it came to relationships, but there were times when keeping things to yourself was the best was to make sure your relationship stayed healthy. And besides, a few small secrets never hurt anyone, right? Then again I'm sure these girls that were dead had their secrets. And look how they turned out.

It had been nearly a full night of silence. Even when we were cleaning up after dinner that night we barely spoke. We just took up our normal positions- I washed, he dried. A part of me wondered why he seemed so reluctant to ask me about my day. Did he somehow instinctively know that he wouldn't like the answer no matter how I spun it? Or was he just trying to play it safe despite his curiosity?

But it was after dinner when we were sitting in the living room that he finally decided to speak up. I was, as I had done so many times already, going over the crime scene photos of those poor girls. For the most part I hadn't let him get a look at them, but he had gazed down over my shoulder and at the pictures, his cheek brushing against mine. "You're working far too hard on this case, love. You're going to drive yourself completely nutter if you don't start thinking of other things as well."

"I need to find out who killed these girls, you know."

"No, love. That isn't your job."

"In a way it is. I'm being paid to find out the truth."

"Love, you know I have complete faith in you and your ability to do your job, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then know I mean absolutely no disrespect when I tell you that I highly doubt that you'll be able to solve this case, Hermione. If the authorities haven't been able to do so, what makes you believe that you can? Yes, you're good at your job, love, but so are they. And there are certain things that you just won't ever be able to do, even though I know you hate to admit that."

I hated it even more because I knew he was right. There was no way I could do every single thing I set my mind to, but that fact didn't comfort me any. Even I knew I had limitations- despite my desire to deny it- but I was also stubborn. I wanted to get my job done and then, of course, be free of Draco Malfoy. And it seemed he wasn't about to go away without me working on this case. Funny how things worked sometimes.

"I know you meant what you just said in the most supportive way possible," I assured Levi. "But I want to work on this. Just for a little longer. I promise to be extra careful."

"I don't like the idea of you spending time around an accused killer."

"Believe me, I don't like being around him anymore than you like me being around him. But this is a good paying job- and an interesting case on top of it. Try to understand."

"I do, love. Once you get your head wrapped around it is nearly impossible to get you to let it go. I've come to terms with that a long time ago. I don't have to like it though."

"No, you don't. But your support is greatly appreciated."

"And you have my support." His lips brushed against my cheek and then he took a seat on the couch, picking up the book he had taken to reading while I worked. This was a comforting feeling- us going about our normal routine, especially after the annoyance that had been handling Malfoy earlier in the evening.

Levi left for work early in the morning and that left me alone in my kitchen going over the file for what seemed like that thousandth time since it landed on my desk. What was going to happen was something I couldn't even begin to comprehend but I knew that whatever it was I was along for the ride. Yes, it was safe to say that I was working with a full plate.

"Working on anything interesting, Granger?"

"Damn it." Putting down my tea mug I turned to see Draco Malfoy standing in my kitchen doorway. He had this insufferable smirk on his face, dark trench coat hanging around him like some kind of a dark aura. "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I came to help you on the case, of course."

"Help me?" Now this was a change of pace. Up until now it seemed like he had been expecting me to do all of the investigating all on my own. "And what exactly can you possibly tell me that can help?"

"That last girl you came to me about."

"Allison Starr."

"Yes, that one. I found out something about her."

"And what might that be?"

"The lovely Allison had been dating Blaise Zabini."

"As in the same Blaise we went to school with?"

"The very same. So, I spoke to him. He told me that Allison claimed to have been getting some rather strange letters from some anonymous person. They were basically threatening to hurt her if she didn't break up with her, and I quote, Death Eater boyfriend."

"Hmm. That _is_ rather interesting."

"I know that. I wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't." He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down without asking, reaching out and pulling the corner off of my piece of toast and popping it in his mouth. He smiled at me while he chewed, eyes never leaving my face. "I figured you'd want to know that tiny bit of information. It might get you somewhere."

"Does Blaise have any of those letters?"

"Why would he? It wasn't like they were sent to _him_, right? They were sent to her."

"Well, she didn't still have them. I'm sure the ministry would have found them."

"According to Blaise she burned them. Apparently they really frightened her and she wanted to get them as far away from her as possible."

"Hmm." Glancing down at the picture of Allison on my table I couldn't help but wonder if this whole letter thing was the answer I was actually looking for. Was that the reason behind this girl's death? "So, whoever wrote the letter made a point of stating the fact that Blaise had been a Death Eater, right?"

"According to Blaise, yes."

"So…that means that all of the girls were involved in some way with a former Death Eater."

He pulled another piece off of my toast and popped it into his mouth, leaning back in the seat. As he chewed his eyebrows drew together like he was in deep thought, head tilting to the side so his hair fell over one eye. "Well, yes, that seems to be a safe assumption."

"So, what if that's the answer?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if these girls were all killed because they were involved with a former Death Eater?"

"And where would the logic in that be?"

"I don't think there is often logic in murder, Malfoy. Once someone fixates on something and believes that a person should be punished for said fixation all logic goes out the window."I moved my plate far enough away that he couldn't reach it in his relaxed position, annoyed that he kept snatching my food when he was more than capable of getting his own. "Pretend for a moment that you think there may be some kind of a possibility that I'm right."

"Alright. I'm pretending."

"Then stop and think for a moment: any other girl you may be involved with or who may be involved with a former Death Eater could be in danger of being slaughtered like these girls were."

"Well, considering how many girls are involved with former Death Eaters that would mean a lot of potential victims. Which would in turn mean too many possible victims for you to possibly go around trying to protect, Granger."

"I _know_ that, but maybe we can figure out who the next victim is."

"How?"

"We could ask if they received any letters."

"And how do you propose we find all of the girls to ask? Do you know how long that would take? How many girls could die between now and then?"

"At least I'm coming up with ideas. I don't see you doing even that much."

"I may not be coming up with any ideas but I do believe we've had a break through."

"And what might that be?"

"You don't think I'm guilty."

"What?" He had to have been losing his mind.

"If you thought I was guilty you wouldn't be asking me to help you try to find the girls. You'd want to do that all on your own, Granger. You think I'm innocent now."

"I…I haven't formed an opinion either way. But it would be a good idea to keep an eye on you, just in case."

"You know if I didn't know you any better I'd think you were just looking for an excuse to spend more time with me, Granger. Fancy that."

"In your dreams, Malfoy."

"In some of them, yes."

I couldn't tell whether he was joking or not. When it came to Malfoy it was more likely than not that he _was_ in fact trying to be funny. Either that or trying to get a rise out of me. Either way I didn't like where this conversation was going. This was dangerous territory after we kissed the night before. The best idea was to steer the conversation as far away from this as possible. But, then again, it usually wasn't very easy to deter Malfoy. He was damn stubborn. "You disgust me."

"Now Granger, don't start telling lies. I don't disgust you. I fascinate you and that's what really gets to you. You don't want to be fascinated by me but you can't seem to help it. I just keep drawing you into my world, don't I?

"You hired me for this case. Stands to reason that it would mean I'd have to be involved in your world in some shape or form, wouldn't it?"

"And yet you seem to be so fascinated with this case that you can't put it down for even a moment. I wonder: is it because of these girls dying or because of the suspect?"

"I wish you would stop flattering yourself so much, Malfoy. Of all the people in the world I would actually choose to spend my time with you can rest assured in knowing you would be in the bottom ten."

"And why would that be reassuring to me, Granger? I must say as time goes on and you work more and more on this case I find you to be much more interesting than I had previously thought you were. Fancy that."

"I don't appreciate your games, Malfoy." Glancing at my toast my stomach churned in protest. Yep, he had made me lose my appetite entirely.

Shoving the plate roughly towards him I stood up, grabbing my tea cup as I did so. "Your games are no more amusing now than they were back at school."

"Who ever said anything about playing games?" Tugging off another piece of the toast he smiled at me. I wasn't sure if he was trying to be a smart ass or if he was just in a rather amorous mood. "You assume far too much." He popped the piece of bread into his mouth rather gracefully, amusement swimming in his eyes.

I scowled as I turned to the sink. "You're far too amused with yourself for me to believe you aren't playing games, Malfoy. If it isn't enough to saddle me with an extremely complicated case that you are being less than helpful with, now you're playing games with me and trying to confuse me far more than I already am by all of this. Keep up your games and I'll quit the case entirely."

"Is that what your little boyfriend wants you to do?" I felt the heat of his body behind me. He reached around me, placing the now empty plate into the sink, his heat radiating into my body. "Does he want you to quit, Granger?"

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"Oh, don't play coy with me, Granger. You're not nearly as good at it as you think you are. Besides, there's a picture of the two of you in your living room. And if you remember the layout of your own home the doorway you happened to see me standing in before connects directly to the living room."

He was right, of course. Again. And I didn't like it one bit. "I don't need any snark, Malfoy. Just tell me why you're bringing him up."

"He looks rather…..mundane, doesn't he?"

"Mundane?" I turned to look at him, eyes narrowing. "What does that mean?"

"Well, Granger, despite all of our differences even I can admit you're rather smart. And for someone who is muggle born you're rather talented at magic. Is he a muggle?"

"No, he's not."

"Then he doesn't look like he'd be very powerful, you know."

"What?"

"I'm merely making an observation, Granger. No use in getting offended by an observation." He leaned casually back onto the table, his hands pressed on the wood behind him, head cocked slightly to the side. "I suppose he isn't a bad looking man."

"I don't know whether I should be questioning how straight you are after that comment."

A ghost of a smile danced across the pale lines of his face. "If a straight man is secure in his own sexuality than he can comment on another man's looks, Granger. Honestly, are your friends so insecure that they can't comment on such things?" He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Shame on Potter and the weasel."

"You're infuriating."

"Thank you. I do believe I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't meant to be one."

"I'm going to take it as one regardless. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that boyfriend of yours. As I was saying, I suppose he isn't a bad looking guy, but he seems hardly interesting enough for someone who spends their time doing what you do."

"Perhaps I like simplicity outside of my job. Simplicity can be comforting, you know."

"You mean boring, don't you?"

"No, Malfoy, I said what I meant. I don't appreciate you insinuating otherwise."

"Oh, come off it, Granger. You love excitement. I think that's why you spent so much bloody time with Potter in school. He always managed to get you all into some sort of a dangerous situation. And you could use that cleverness of yours to help get them out of it. Because, let's face it, Granger: you're not only smart, but your ego is nearly as large as you claim mine to be. You just love to show off your skills and your knowledge. And being around Potter gave you the perfect opportunity to do so. Especially working with someone as dim as Weasley."

"Ronald isn't dim."

He waved me off, shaking his hair out of his face. "Say what you will about him but I say he's dim. And nothing you can say will ever convince me otherwise."

"You really are insufferable."

"You never answered me, you know."

"Answer you about what?"

"Whether or not your little boyfriend wants you to drop this assignment I've given you."

"He has a name, you know."

"I assumed he did. Unless the poor bloke's parents called him 'hey, you' his entire childhood that is."

I pursed my lips for a moment. His attitude hadn't changed one bit since school. "His name is Levi."

"Levi, great. That's all well and good but that still isn't an answer to my question."

"Well….he's just concerned for my safety. That's natural. You see, normal people have these things called emotions, Malfoy. And I know that concept of them is one that's far too complex for you to even begin to grasp, but those lovely things usually mean that when you're in a relationship with someone you care about their safety. And as such you worry about them from time to time."

"You're under the misconception that I don't care about anyone, Granger."

"Do you?"

"Do you honestly think I wanted any of these women to die? Honestly, Granger, just because I didn't have a mutual exclusive relationship with any of them doesn't mean I didn't care about them in my own way. And yes, it is rather sad that they are dead. If I could change that I would, and not just so I could shag them again. But just so they would actually be alive."

"Surprise, surprise. Malfoy knows how to feel things."

"Quite well, actually."

"Well, you have your answer now."

"But only part of it." He pressed himself away from the table, walking towards me until the counter was pressing harshly against my back as I attempted to get away from him and his body was merely pressed against mine. "Is he afraid of your safety because he doesn't want you to get killed or he doesn't want you to stray?"

"Stray?" My breath was catching in my throat. After that bloody kiss the day before I wasn't exactly sure being this close to Malfoy was such a good idea.

"Yes, stray. As in become involved with someone else."

"And who would that person be? You? Would never happen."

"You keep protesting, Granger, but your body betrays you. Your heart it pounding in your chest right now, your breath is ragged. I know enough about people to know that this isn't annoyance as you'd so love to insist. This is what we call lust- and before you can protest you can lust after people you don't particularly like, you know. Sexual attraction has nothing to do with personality. It is strictly physical."

"I don't know what you think you know, Malfoy, but I'm not sexually attracted to you."

"No?" He dipped down, brushing his lips barely against mine. I sucked in my breath, heart fluttering dangerously in my chest. "You really are a poor liar, Granger."

And then he disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving me alone in my kitchen and contemplating whether or not I could get away with pleading temporary insanity if I murdered him.


	6. Visions Of Blood

I felt like I was falling. Even my stomached jerked as though it was about to twist into some great big knot. Opening my eyes I felt my stomach jolted at the intense copper smell of blood. It made my head start to spin, my eyes felt like rolling back into my head. Reaching up I put my hand on my head to stop the uncontrollable throbbing pain and flinched at the pressure of my hand on my skin. My scalp felt warm and wet and as I pulled it back I saw my own blood coating my fingers. Reaching back up again I could feel the blood all across my scalp both warm and sticky. "Shit."

"About time you woke up, Granger." It took me a moment to focus on the voice. I knew it, of course, but my eyes were closed again from the pain and at the moment I couldn't place where I knew that voice from. And not knowing was driving me crazy. I knew deep down that I should have been able to place the voice without an issue and at first I couldn't.

Taking a slow breath I tried to push down the pain that was coursing through me. Once I was sure the pain wasn't going to make me vomit I opened my eyes and tried to focus on the figure standing in front of me, black slacks the only thing in my immediate line of vision. Tilting my head up would have sent me right into another headache but I also knew that if I wanted to see who it was I had to either look up or they had to crouch down.

"I was worried I hit you too hard. You've been out of it for a while." I knew that voice, I was positive. And then he crouched down and Malfoy's pale face came into view. There was a cool detachment about him at the moment. Like he was gazing upon something mundane like a log rather than me on the floor with blood clumping my hair against my scalp. Perhaps to him this _was_ mundane, uninteresting.

Opening my mouth I tried to say something but found my mouth too dry like it had been stuffed with cotton. Closing it again I flinched at the feeling. My throat felt like someone had taken sand paper to it or made me gargle broken glass. It was raw and felt like there was blood dripping down it but I knew there wasn't. It was just a throbbing pain I couldn't seem to get rid of.

Malfoy's hand came towards me slowly and I flinched away, trying to get as far from him as I could. But whatever wound he had caused on my head made moving quickly bring on dizziness and nausea. It hit me like a tidal wave as I tried to move and stopped my efforts in a snap. Then his hand was on top of my head. No, not his hand. A cloth in his hand. A very wet cloth that felt icy against my skin and made the laceration sting. "You really should stop moving so much," he scolded. "Makes you just feel like you're going to throw up, doesn't it?"

He pulled back the cloth, rich with blood, and dipped it into a small bowl of water by his side. How had I not noticed that? He wrung it out and then placed it back onto of my head, slowly wiping the blood away from the wound. "You're lucky you have such a thick head, Granger. Probably would have killed you with that blow otherwise. Bloody lucky."

"Sod off." Even to me my voice sounded weak and scratchy. The strain of talking made it feel like blood was running down my throat again and I coughed against the feeling. Which in turn made my chest, my throat and my head hurt all at once. It was a bloody lovely feeling to be honest.

"Lovely to know your wit hasn't been damaged, Granger. Merlin knows I'd miss our banter if I knocked that out of you."

I wanted to tell him to 'sod off' again but it wouldn't do me any good. Malfoy was Malfoy and no matter what you said to him he did things his own way. And I was pretty sure his only goal at the moment was to me to death. If so he was probably going to succeed.

It took him only a few more minutes to finish cleaning off the laceration on my scalp. With each movement the wound stung and there was a shooting pain going through me but I wasn't about to scream out against it. I honestly don't think Malfoy would have cared much.

"You really are something else, Granger." The edge of his mouth threatened to curl up into a smile as he dropped the cloth into the water. "I know bloody well that you're in pain right now and yet you won't show it. As if hiding it will change anything at all. My, my. You really do know how to confuse and fascinate people, don't you?"

The sad part was that I wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Malfoy always knew how make you wonder, that was for sure. But now really wasn't the time to be trying to figure out how Malfoy's mind worked. He had knocked me unconscious and though I wasn't exactly sure of the reasoning behind it I was almost positive that I wouldn't like the answer when I found it.

Malfoy stood up, bowl in hand, and then disappeared from my line of vision for a couple of minutes. I could hear the sound of water running, hear dishes moving around. Where the heck was I? Hell, did I even want to know?

He came back over and crouched down in front of me, holding out a glass of what appeared to be water, but I wasn't about to put my faith in that. Trusting him was not the safest thing to do. And apparently that showed on my face because he laughed. "Just water, Granger. I promise. Your throat sounded dry before. I figured you could use some. But if you don't want it that's fine with me. I'll just pour it out."

The problem was I _did_ want it. But I didn't want to let him know I needed anything from him. Being at his mercy was probably the worst thing I could think of but my throat was dry and it stung like mad.

"Do you want the water, Granger?"

To talk or to nod? Either one would have been painful, but talking would have probably sent me into another coughing fit so nodding a bit was the lesser of two evils. So I did nod a bit, swallowing against the bile that started to rise up.

He moved the glass so it was against my mouth and waited until my lips parted before tilting the glass up enough to pour the contents into my mouth. The water was cool against the dryness of my mouth and stung slightly on the way down as it hit the rawness of my throat but it was a good sting. So much better than any of the other pain I had felt today.

I easily drank half the glass before he pulled it away and set it down next to me. "There. That wasn't that big of a deal, was it? Just water, just like I said it was. And I'd wager your throat feels much better now."

Much better was an exaggeration, but yes, it felt better. Not that I was about to tell him that, of course. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"No need to answer," he assured me. "Your facial expressions are rather easy to read right now, you know. Perhaps the pain from that lovely cut on your head is making it too hard to concentrate. Is that it, Granger? Can't concentrate hard enough to stop your emotions from showing through now? No worries. I probably could have read them either way." He had this arrogance about him, like he always did back at school. And even if it was the usual Malfoy cockiness I wanted to have the energy to punch him right in his bloody mouth right about now. Unfortunately for me I was lacking said energy. This whole thing was becoming more and more of an annoyance with each passing second. It was really beginning to get old.

Malfoy stood up abruptly. Tilting my head up to look at him made it feel like something was sloshing around in there. It was a disgusting sound and an even more disgusting feeling. It was _almost_ enough to make the bile rise up in the back of my throat. But I swallowed against the sudden nauseous feeling that threatened to take control of me.

"You know, Granger, sometimes I really do believe that you try far too hard to figure me out. You have to know by now that figuring me out is the last thing in the world you'll ever be able to do, don't you? I've always been rather good at making people see exactly what they want to see. Hiding is almost like a specialty for me."

It wasn't exactly clear what he was prattling on about but I had the distinct feeling that when I found out what it was I wasn't going to like it. With Malfoy that almost seemed to be a given but this time something seemed different. There was something in the air that was almost ominous, kind of like how it feels right before a horrid storm. It was that eerie kind of calm that makes you feel like there's something crawling up your spine.

"It disappoints me, you know. That you haven't stopped trying to figure me out by now. If I were really that simple don't you think you'd know all there is to know about me by now? You have known me for a very long time, Granger. Now, I know you wouldn't have called us particularly close but being around me so much if I were simple you would have figured me out in my entirety by now. Wouldn't you?"

Would I? Most likely not. But if he wanted to believe that then he was free to do so. Didn't affect me either way.

"But I think that perhaps by the end of tonight you'll understand me a lot more than you do right now. And I don't think you'll like what you happen to find out."

"What?" My voice sounded wrong, like I had been gargling glass for the last hour. Well, at least my voice sounded about as good as my throat felt. That was, surprisingly, very comforting.

"Now, now Granger. There will be plenty of time for questions later. Besides, if I told you everything there wouldn't be any fun in all of this, would there? No, the surprise is the best part." He almost sounded giddy at the idea of whatever he was going to do making me angry. Then again this was Malfoy- strange things did seem to amuse him. "I do love surprising you, Granger. It gives me such pleasure."

"Good to know I can be useful." Talking was hurting my throat but I was getting tired of staying silent. Furthermore I doubted he was going to stay silent whether I spoke or not so I might as well try to make him as pissed as me as I was at him. "Not that I live to serve you."

"Of course not. But you are rather handy to have around when I need some amusement. Now, I must ask you to stop talking now or I'll have to hex you. The show is about to start."

"Show?"

"Didn't I tell you to stop talking, Granger? I know you really don't want me to hex you."

I wanted to tell Malfoy to sod off but now I was curious. What show was he talking about? Was he going to do something or had he gone completely mental? Either way I wasn't exactly keen on the idea of being hexed on top of everything else so I clamped my mouth shut, narrowing my eyes at him to show that I was less than pleased about being ordered around.

He smiled at me sardonically, like this was all some big game. "Good girl, Granger." Bloody prat. "Now the show can begin." His smile slowly changed into something dark, something primal. It made my blood run cold in my veins, made dread wash over me.

Holding up a finger to tell me to wait he disappeared into the equally dark hall leaving me to gaze around the basically empty room. The floor was concrete and cold enough that I could feel it through my trousers. Other than the light hanging from the ceiling there was nothing there but me, not even windows. I could only conclude this was some kind of a basement room.

Malfoy returned pushing what looked like an office chair. There, in the chair, looking absolutely terrified sat a young girl, arms strapped down by tape. Tape also ran across her mouth. Her eyes met mine, wild and frightened, her cheeks tearstained. "Granger, this is Grace. Do be polite and say hello, won't you?"

"What's going on, Malfoy?" The sense of dread was mounting with every passing moment. Whatever was going on her I was positive I wasn't going to like this.

"Grace here is our guest. She's part of the show, aren't you?" He wheeled her into the center of the room and then came around to stand next to it, pressing his face close to hers. She flinched away, trying to move herself away but was unable to. "Now Grace, I'm going to remove that tape. But if you scream I'll be very angry. And things will be so much better for you if you don't make me angry. Do you understand?"

Grace nodded slightly, eyes wide like an animal. His long fingers grabbed the edge of the tape and tugged it off in one smooth motion. As her mouth became free a sob escaped her, her entire body shaking. "Please…please, let me go."

"Now Grace, this is a show, remember? And what kind of a show can there be without the star?"

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

"You were curious about whether or not I was responsible for those deaths, weren't you?" Reaching into the deep pocket of his overcoat he smiled at me, pulling out a long knife. The blade glinted in the dim light. "I'm going to give you the answer to that question, Granger."

"Malfoy…don't." Grace had started to struggle against her restraints, small whimpering sounds escaping from her. "This is insanity, Malfoy. Stop this. Right now. Let us both go."

"How often is murder logical, Granger?" He pressed the blade of the knife against Grace's neck and the girl's struggling ceased. "Isn't the act of taking someone else's life for no real reason illogical?" Pressing down on the blood he watched as the skin of Grace's neck split just enough for blood to run down her neck.

"Malfoy….please, stop this."

"But I promised you a show. And I intend to keep my promise."

He raised the knife and if came down, splitting open Grace's skin.

I screamed and the world went black.

"Granger!"

I jumped up, reeling back from the hand that had come down to rest on my shoulder. My heart was racing.

Malfoy stood in front of my desk, one eyebrow arched towards his hairline. "Having a nightmare, Granger?"

"Stay away from me." I pushed my chair back against the wall, fear gripping me with an unshakeable hold.

Malfoy's eyebrow shifted up higher as he glanced to either side of himself as if to see if I was talking to him or not. When his gaze returned to me he didn't even attempt to hide his confusion. "What is wrong with you, Granger? Have you gone completely mental? Looking at too many pictures of dead people will do that to you."

"Just stay away from me."

"I haven't gotten any closer to you, Granger."

The sad part was he hadn't. I was just being overly paranoid and illogical. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on how the investigation is going, but if this is a bad time I'll just go and check in later."

What was I really going to say? That I had apparently had a very vivid and realistic dream of him murdering some innocent girl? Right, he would think I really _had_ gone mental for being this upset over a dream. "No, now is fine."

"Good." He sat down in the chair in front of my desk in a slow and calculated motion, like he was afraid I was about to have a panic attack or a break down.

Great. Malfoy thought I was mental. This was the last thing I needed right now.


	7. Another One Falls

After that dream I could have used a drink, a rather large one at that. Unfortunately for me I didn't keep any alcohol at the office and I wasn't feeling up for trying to get any either. My heart was still beating in my throat, the screams of the girl inside of my head still reverberating around like someone decided to put a song on repeat deep within my cranium. It was beginning to give me a headache that I was sure would only become worse the longer I stayed around Malfoy.

He watched me with clear gray eyes, taking in my every move like a predator stalking his prey. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought. After having dreamt of the man in question murdering a woman in front of me that wasn't a comparison I appreciated my brain making.

"Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?" I asked him and then had to clear my throat. It sounded a bit weaker than I liked, scratchy thanks to my dry throat. It was ironic considering how my throat felt in the dream I just had. The dream was so, so realistic though that I kept expecting to wake up and realize that _this_ right here was, in fact, the dream; I kept expecting to wake up in that dark, dark room with a dead girl still tied to a chair, blood dripping all over the cold floor.

"The case, obviously," he replied, a slow and wicked smile slowly starting to spread across his face, almost like he was beyond amused that I even had to ask that. He was rather unpredictable though so I can't honestly say that it as all that odd that I needed to question why it was that he was speaking to me. When it came to him I knew that pretty much anything was possible. That was another statistic that wasn't very comforting and made the dream slam into the front of my mind so my stomach churned and I felt bile slowly rising up the back of my throat.

I swallowed it down harshly, moving my chair back into its proper place at my desk, resting my arms on the top of it when I got there. The wood was cool and solid beneath my arms and was actually rather comforting and grounding. I wasn't sure how sane I'd be able to stay at the moment without something keeping me tethered to reality. Right now this would do. It wasn't much but it would definitely, definitely do for now.

"Well," I started slowly. "If you're asking me if I have any progress to report to you then you've wasted your time. If I had any news I would have contacted you to let you know. So far nothing new and nothing definitive."

"I'm not checking up on you," he replied, that wicked, confident look still on his face. "I'm actually here to give you a new bit of information, Granger. Perhaps it may prove useful."

"Oh?"

"Another victim has surfaced, actually."

I almost groaned out loud, I really did. It wasn't something I wanted to do and I had to admit that all of these bodies were starting to be really, really intimidating. I had probably bitten off more than I could chew with this assignment. Much, much more. "Shall I guess? Another…_lover_ or yours?"

"No, not this time." I can't say I wasn't surprised when he said that but he didn't seem to notice. He just kept right on talking. "This one would be one of Blaise's."

"Oh, lovely." If he didn't pick up the sarcasm in my voice he was utterly and totally dense. Another girlfriend or lover or whatever of a pureblood extremist had turned up dead. This wasn't boding well. I was actually considering the notion of letting the Daily Prophet know exactly what it was that was going on in this world. Or passing out flyers in Diagon Alley to let them know what had happened. _Anything_ to let the public know that someone apparently didn't like girls being involved with pureblood extremists. Or maybe it was just the women involved with Malfoy and Zabini that whoever was doing this didn't seem to like. Or it could still be Malfoy. I wasn't sold on his being innocent yet. I wasn't sure if I would ever be. He was insistent when he declared his innocence but most people are, aren't they? Guilty or not most people- or most _sane_ people often said they were innocent and that certainly wasn't always the case. I had the sinking suspicion that this may have been one of those times.

"Sarcasm suits you quite well, Granger," he noted, the corner of his mouth threatening to twitch into a genuine smile. "You should use it more often."

"I'm afraid you may be rubbing off on me." Lifting up one hand I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing a bit. "So, another body means another person to collect data on." Releasing my nose I motioned towards him. "What would this woman happened to be named?"

"Alyssa Cobb. She was eighteen."

"Eighteen?" I let out this low sound that was almost a whistle but not quite. "Good to know that morals aren't dead."

"That makes her still legal,' Malfoy argued, a tiny hit of amusement in his voice. "That's all that matters. Legally. And you seem to be forgetting- it isn't as though Blaise forced her into anything. It was a mutually beneficial situation."

"Mutually beneficial?"

"Both men _and_ women enjoy a good shagging, Granger. So, yes. The situation was mutually beneficial. Both Blaise and Alyssa received sexual gratification with no strings attached."

"There _should_ be strings," I argued, rolling my eyes at him as I sat back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest. "There is no such thing as having sex with someone and it not affecting both parties. When you sleep with someone it gives them a part of you and gives you a part of them, Malfoy. It forms some kind of connection whether the people admit it or not."

"That's a very spiritual view on something very basic and primal," he noted, lifting one of his eyebrows in what I could only assume was amusement based on the tone of his voice. "You always seemed to be more concerned with facts when we were in school. When did you suddenly become so spiritual?"

"I'm not trying to be spiritual. I'm trying to be logical. This is about it effecting your _mind_ or your _heart_. That's not spiritual."

"So, you've _never_ had someone you just shagged but weren't in a relationship with? No one-night stands? No 'friends with benefits'?"

"No."

"Well, I must say, you don't know what you're missing," he told me, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth with what seemed to be actual disappointment. "You ought to experience as much as you can in your life. And to do that sometimes you need to step outside of your comfort zone."

I wasn't sure what he was trying to get at with that. After all, working with him was definitely stepping outside of my comfort zone. It wasn't as though he and I were mates in Hogwarts or anything of the like. We didn't really actually speak, even if we happened upon each other while we were out. It had happened a couple of times in Diagon Alley and we had both merely glanced at each other and then kept on walking.

If he was trying to convince me that it would be a good idea to try out the casual sex thing then he was talking to the wrong girl. I wasn't about to turn into a person who went off and slept with whoever was willing, wouldn't turn into that person even if I _didn't_ currently have a boyfriend. That was merely the extra incentive to keep any sexual urges I _may_ have in check though I could honestly say those urges didn't include the desire to sleep with a random group of men. And why would it? What good could possibly come from that? All that it would do was give a piece of me to all of them. I don't honestly think I needed sexual gratification from a large amount of men to be truly satisfied.

"As _broadening_ as your little life of casual sex must be," I started, standing up from my seat. "It isn't the life for me. And in case you didn't notice, Malfoy- men can get away with that far easier than women. When women do it they're considered slags. Even if that _weren't_ the case, however, I wouldn't want to engage in that kind of a life."

Making my way around my desk I started for the door, intent on getting him to leave my office so I could try to do a little research about the newest victim and then head home before I came back and jut worked my arse off _again_ the next day. If this wasn't so important and he wasn't paying me so well I would have quit in an instant. This was exhausting work.

His hand shot out and clamped down on my arm. I froze as he pulled me back and made sure my back connected with my desk before he stood up, eyes fixed on my face. "Do you really have such a low opinion of my life?" he asked me quietly but there was a storm behind his eyes, like maybe he was really, really angry and was just hiding it pretty well.

"Does what I think of your life really matter? It's your life. You're free to do whatever you want to."

"You're wrong," he said as though I hadn't ever spoken at all, still using that same quiet tone. "It isn't exactly casual. It might not be as high and refined as you would consider _your_ relationships but they weren't exactly casual. And while I can only speak for myself and not Blaise I can honestly say that I cared about them. I may not have been in love with them but I cared about them. And I didn't want them dead."

I wasn't sure if I believed him though he seemed to be sincere. It was just very difficult to believe that he could honestly care for any of the women he slept with so casually. And he may have been telling me that it wasn't casual but there was no other way to aptly describe it. There was no love, no dedication. That was the definition of casual in my mind.

"That still doesn't explain why you care what I think about your life." It wasn't a good idea for me to let him know that I thought he was lying. Not when we were that close together. There was no guarantee that I wouldn't upset him something fierce and possibly end up getting hurt. Even if he _wasn't_ the killer that didn't mean that he couldn't or wouldn't hurt me.

"It's called being curious," he droned, sounding very bored with the idea of me questioning him about that. "I wouldn't s much say that I _care_. I'm just curious."

"Just because you're curious that doesn't mean I have to give you an answer."

Some kind of an emotion spread across his face, flashing there and then disappearing before I could accurately access what it was. And then he released my arm and his hands were on my waist and he lifted me up, sitting me on my desk with a small thud. I gasped when I made contact with the wood having not been prepared to be moved so suddenly, not having been prepared to have him hoist me up like that.

"You know, Granger," he started almost casually, stepping closer to me, his body resting against my knees. "You aren't exactly convinced right now that I'm _not_ the person who is killing these girls. As such you should try to upset me as little as possible, don't you think?"

I swallowed hard. "In theory, yes," I agreed. "But sometimes you make it far too easy."

Malfoy let out a sound that was almost a scoff, almost a laugh, his gaze drilling down into my very soul as he watched me with his cool, cool gray eyes. "No, you're just extraordinarily good at being completely and totally infuriating." His hands were still on my waist and while it was a very odd feeling it wasn't entirely unpleasant. It was actually making this strange humming sound filter around in my brain, a sound I wasn't accustomed to and didn't quite understand. It was a bit intimidating but also a bit intoxicating.

"Sometimes I do believe that you enjoy upsetting me," he accused, one corner or his mouth turning up a bit at the side though I wasn't sure whether he was fighting off a smile or a smirk. With him either was a possibility. "I think you get a great _thrill_ out of it."

His fingers slid beneath the hem of my sweater, seeking out skin. His palms pressed against my sides, his cool fingers against my back. It made me shiver beneath his touch which was actually quite embarrassing. I didn't like that he was able to make me shiver with such a simple touch. It almost felt perverted then he hadn't really touched me in an inappropriate way.

But there was something appealing about the touch of his hands on my skin rather than through the fabric of my clothes and I hated that, hated that I was actually thrilled at the idea of his touch. It was wrong. So very, very wrong.

"Am I right?" he questioned, fingers needing at my skin. "Do you get some kind of a thrill out of it, Granger?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," he insisted, leaning closer to me. His breath was warm on my face. Turning his head to the side his mouth went so close to my ear that I could almost feel them pressing against the skin. "You know _exactly_ what I mean," he continued. "I want to know if it thrills you. I want to know if pissing me off happens to get you off."

"_What_?!?" I knew that my voice was shrill but I couldn't help it. That was such an embarrassing question but it was also just so bizarre. Why he would ask something like that was beyond me. "Of course not!"

"Somehow I don't believe you." He moved his mouth and pressed his lips against my neck, soft and moist. My breath caught in my throat, a shudder running up my spine. This was just really, really bad. It was like he had put some kind of a spell on me because I found myself unable to move, barely able to breathe.

"I think you enjoy getting my angry very, very much," he insisted against my skin. His tongue pushed past his lips, touched the side of my neck. I tried to swallow it but a small, pathetic sound crawled up my throat. He smiled against my skin and then his tongue touched my skin again and he licked a slow, moist line up my neck and to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

I closed my eyes and bit down on my bottom lip, feeling somehow cold and hot all at once. My brain was split, half of it yelling at me to run and half of it enjoying the attention.

His teeth made contact with my jaw, nipping at the skin there in a way that was just shy of being painful but very, very pleasant, pleasant enough that I whimpered and shuddering and cursed myself for not being able to bring myself to move. And then the nipping moved, down the line of my jaw and to my chin, moving so slowly that I was actually _waiting_ for each new nip which was just wrong. So very, very wrong.

He slid one hand up the side, resting it on my ribcage and the other slid out of my shirt so he could reach up and take my chin in my hand, tilting my head down a little. My eyes opened, watching him for a second because I couldn't even begin to guess what it was that he was thinking right now.

And that's when his mouth descended down onto mine, his head tilted slightly to the side as our mouths met. The touch was soft at first, too soft, so soft that it made me whimper again and that seemed to draw him on because his hand slid away from my chin and to the back of my head, his long fingers tangling in my hair and drawing me closer to him, cupping the back of my head.

He pulled me closer to him, our bodies almost pressed against each other he deepened the kiss and it was this whole meshing of lips and tongues and teeth; it was kisses and nips and whimpers and sighs. It was almost too much to bear, almost too much to process and it made my head spin, made my stomach clench in a very appealing manner. It was so, so enjoyable that I could scarcely believe that it was happening.

His mouth left mine and while my eyes had closed when the kissing started they opened right back up when his mouth left mine. His eyes met mine, something shimmering inside of those depths I couldn't comprehend. "I think you enjoy getting to me much more than you yourself even realize," he said quietly.

And then as quickly as he had grabbed me he let me go, stepping back from me, his fingers untangling from my hair as his hands moved away from me and headed to the door, waving at me over his shoulder. "Keep me updated with your investigation, won't you?"

He exited my office like a muggle would and closed the door behind me, leaving me to reach up and press my fingers against my mouth as I remained on my desk.

Levi would kill me if he knew about this.


End file.
